


The Painting

by rcmbelle



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcmbelle/pseuds/rcmbelle
Summary: Daryl gives Anne inspiration for her painting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So while this isn’t like anything I’ve wrote before, I’ve been inspired by the newest episode of the walking dead. In the episode there are paintings of Beth, Glenn, and Hershel. The painting of Beth was a picture of her after the prison fell, and the only person who was with her during that time was Daryl. So, this one-shot was born.  
> Update:  
> I’ve now turned this oneshot into a story. Stay tuned for the next part!!!

“Daryl, could you come here for a second?” That was Maggie calling to him, and he removed the arm that was laying over his face from where he lay on the bench out front at the hilltop.  
He stood up and rubbed his face, walking inside to where he heard Maggie call from.  
“Anne is a painter.” Maggie said to him once he walked inside the room that used to be Gregory’s. Hershel junior was in his playpen looking up at Daryl with wide eyes. Daryl felt the lump in his throat not go away as he tried to focus on what Maggie was saying.  
“She already painted Glenn and daddy.. but she hasn’t done..”  
Daryl froze and felt his heart stop. He looked at Maggie, feeling the pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how long it’s been since he saw her.  
Her smile, her voice, the way the room would just light up when she walked inside.  
“What do you want me to do?” He finally managed to get out.  
“You were the last person who.. saw her. Could you just tell Anne everything about her?”  
Daryl stared at Maggie and still failed to get rid of the lump that was in his throat.  
“I-“ he stumbled, his bottom lip moving, trembling.  
“If it’s too much I can do-“  
“I can do it.” He kicked at the ground and bit on his lip, trying to get his thoughts together.  
The painting had to be perfect.  
For her. For Beth.  
-  
Daryl pulled up the chair to where Anne had a little station set up. There was paint everywhere.  
He didn’t know where to start.  
“Beth was.. Beth was light.” He said quietly. “Beth had this golden hair- not too gold, not too yellow, but it was like the sun.” Daryl looked down at his hands, and he left her damn knife back at the sanctuary- he wanted to hold it now, to have it close to him.  
“She loved the color green. I mean, not only was it the damn girl’s last name but she loved it.” He found himself smiling at the memories he had of her- in the forest, surrounded by green.  
“Her eyes were this- amazing blue color. When she looked at you- her gaze made it into your soul.” He coughed, rubbing his jaw and he hadn’t once looked up at Anne.  
“Her face, her soul, was pure. It was just pure. The way her-“ he shook his head. “Would be better if I just drew it.” He grumbled our and grabbed a pen and paper.  
After so long having not seen her, he remembered every detail of her face. The way her smile curved just there, her eyes that would look right into his soul and twist around everything in him. His heart aches as he drew her face before handing the drawing to Anne.  
She grabbed his hand and forced him to look at her.  
Daryl swallowed, bottom lip working as he tried to control his emotions.  
“She was beautiful, Daryl.” Anne said quietly.  
He nodded. “Mm. She was. The most beautiful girl. But damn, she was a fighter. And she was strong. So strong. Never gave up. Never gave up on me.”  
-  
Daryl held the music box in his hands, listening to the song play. It still played after so long.  
“She’s done.”  
His head snapped up as there was the painting- only it was covered by a tarp.  
“Do you wanna-“  
He nodded with a grunt, standing from the chair and slowly removed the tarp.  
He couldn’t move again. Staring at the painting- it was so her. The green color that faded in with her skin. Her hair- the way it curled over her shoulders. It was her- it was Beth.  
And she’d always be with him, not that she wasn’t already. Everything Daryl did was for her.  
And now, more than ever. This painting was to honor her memory. To keep her alive.  
The way he should’ve.


	2. Chapter 2

He comes by often, just to look at the paintings. They’re each as equally beautiful. Mainly they are of Maggie’s family, her mom, their brother were added as well.  
But he can never take his eyes off of her.  
His golden haired angel. He wonders often if she would agree with some of the choices he’s made, if she would forgive him like Maggie did for being the reason Glenn was killed.  
She’d be angry at him, and he smiles, remembering how feisty she was with him- flipping him off and holding her ground.  
But then his smile fades, and he sighs rubbing at his chin, closing his eyes.  
Of course she would forgive him. He’s changed so much- he’s become so much more that the man he had been at the funeral home. But has he? He wishes she was here, that she could remind him like he’d asked her too.  
But she does, in the things he does. He always makes sure he remembers her before he does anything drastic.  
But with Rick not listening to him, with Negan being at Alexandria- it was getting harder and harder to remember Beth’s voice.  
“You gotta stay who you are, not who you were.”  
-  
Daryl was standing facing the painting, hands in his pockets as he studied it.  
“Feels like they’re really here.”  
He turns his head, seeing Maggie.  
Daryl shrugs as Maggie comes next to him.  
“I can still hear his voice. He’d tell me “oh Maggie, you didn’t need to do this.” She smiled and laughed, sighing quietly.  
Daryl bit on his lip, staying quiet. He had gone back to get her knife, and it was between his fingers as he fumbled over the leather sheath.  
“I dunno. She’d say something like ‘there’s too many dark colors. It’s supposed to be a happy painting wall.”  
Maggie laughed and nodded. “True. She always loved bright colors.”  
He felt the familiar pang in his chest. It didn’t lessen as time passed.  
“They’d want us to move on. To be happy.” Maggie said, staring at Daryl. He looked back at her and shrugged.  
“I know. But damn, I can’t help it.” He looked down and his voice gets quiet before the words are all the way out.  
“I know how you feel.” Maggie said quietly, the silence between them not awkward- they shared in their grief of loss together.  
-  
Daryl yet again found himself alone with the painting. He had pulled up a chair, and he found himself talking to her.  
“Judith says she remembers you. But damn, she was just a baby then. Guess it’s cause you took care of her for the first part of her life, you latched onto her.” He laughed, a quiet sound that he hadn’t heard in a while.  
“Latched onto her like you did to me. Damn it Beth, why the hell did ya have to leave?”  
He was angry, at himself mostly. He should’ve stopped Dawn from shooting her. He should’ve been able to get her out alive. But she wasn’t here, just this painting that he wanted to come to life, to slap him for being so damn sad all of the time.  
“Just say something. Anything.” He ran his hands down his face, bent over on the chair.  
“Damn it Beth..” he sighed, unable to control his emotions. He wanted to feel her next to him, he wanted to watch her with his crossbow again, teach her all sorts of new things now.  
He wanted to feel her arms around him, keeping him safe- she was the only one who really could understand him. Who saw his bullshit and called him out on it. Who made him feel like he was home when he was with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you know where I’m going with this story :)


	3. Chapter 3

He had fallen asleep, his head basically in his lap as he blinked and opened his eyes.  
Her heard screaming and then crying, and his hands reached for his crossbow- his first reflex.  
“Maggie? You okay?”  
He called, only he didn’t get an answer. He kicked the chair backwards as he stood, rushing to the closed door, swinging it open in one move.  
Daryl had to blink several times, he was confused. In shock. He blinked even more, and rubbed at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t still asleep on the chair.  
Because what- who was standing in front of him didn’t make any sense.  
She was dead.  
But here she was, looking right at him with those damn eyes of hers that saw right through him.  
“Hi Daryl.”  
Her voice. Wasn’t he just imagining it? And oof- her arms around him, entrapping Daryl in her warm embrace. He buried his face in her golden locks and closed his eyes, his arms coming up to hold her to him, to not wake up if this was a dream.  
Because standing in his arms was Beth. And he wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon.  
-  
“These paintings are beautiful.” She was sitting on top of the desk, swinging her legs back and forth. Beth was wearing a different shirt than she was wearing when they were together after the prison, it was a pretty dark gray color.  
She didn’t talk about what happened to her after- but Daryl wasn’t going to push her to. Beth was here- she was alive- and that’s all that mattered to him.  
Daryl lifted his head as she jumped off the desk, going to stand before the paintings of her mother and father. Daryl watched her, looking at her intently. He watched the way her eyes softened, staring at the painting versions of her parents before they turned and looked at him.  
“Daryl?”  
He was on his feet, at her side in seconds.  
“What’s wrong Beth?” He asked, his hand coming up to rest on her arm.  
“You did mine?”  
“Well I helped..”  
“You nailed me.” She laughed quietly, brushing some of her hair out of her face. It was shorter than he remembered, maybe she had to cut it?  
His eyes went down and took her hand, before taking the knife from his pocket.  
“Here. ‘ts yours.”  
He slid the knife in her hand, but neither of them dropped their hands. He looked into her eyes, wishing he could see what happened after they left her in the trunk. Her eyes bore into his own, the look she gave him was so intense.  
“Beth..” he whispered, feeling his throat close up. He saw it then- the tears that were forcing their way down her cheeks. He moved his hand, his thumb gently brushing them away, feeling his chest tighten when he saw her lean into his hand.  
“There’s so much I want to tell you Daryl.” Her voice was quiet. “But I-“  
He shook his head, and moved to pull her to him. “You don’t have to.” He said quietly, resting his chin in her hair.  
Beth shook her head and looked up at him. “I want to tell you. Tell you everything. It’s just- after the hospital.. I can’t remember much.” She looked down, and he rested his hand under her chin, moving her head up to look at him.  
“It’s okay Beth. We have all the time in the world to talk.”  
-  
Daryl noticed that Beth spent a lot of time with the paintings. He could hear her talking to them, to her mom, her brother and father, even Glenn. Telling her about Glenn’s death was hard to do, but Daryl and Maggie did their best to tell her what happened.  
When she cried into Daryl’s chest, it brought him so much pain and grief. He hated that they had to leave her in the trunk on the road. So many emotions and words were left unspoken between them.  
Maggie left when she heard Hershel crying, and it was just Beth and Daryl in the room with the paintings.  
Daryl felt her pull away? Going to the painting of her father. He watched her as she looked up, her eyes soft again, the tears that had stained her face had stopped flowing.  
He walked up behind her, putting his arm around her, feeling as she leaned back into him.  
“He’d be proud of you, Beth.” Daryl said quietly, looking up at the painting of Hershel. How he still felt guilty that he stopped looking for the governor, about how if he hadn’t given up, Hershel might still be alive.  
“He was always proud of me.” Beth whispered, Daryl watching her eyes closing.  
He felt her sigh, before she turned around, still in his arms looking up at him.  
Daryl couldn’t explain it, why did she want to be here? With him? He was nothing. But to her, he was everything.  
“Daryl..” her voice wavered, bottom lip trembling as she stared up at him.  
And he knew, he knew in the look that she gave him, he knew what she wanted him to do.  
So he did.  
He leaned his head down, she raised hers, her fingers in his hair as he pressed his lips against hers.  
He could feel her shoulders relax, her body relaxing against his, and he sighed.  
How long had he dreamed about this moment? The moment in the hospital that was stolen from them by Dawn. How he wished he could’ve just swooped her into his arms and gotten her the hell out of there before anyone had to die.  
But that was months ago, it was years ago. How has she made it here? He had so many questions, but the only thing that mattered to him was her, right here, kissing him back when he kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Beth had a lot to tell him. That much was true. There was so much going on inside her head. She wanted to tell him, tell him everything. But it was so hard finding the words to make sense in her head.   
She knew he understood, of course he did. It warmed her heart knowing he did.   
The paintings- she couldn’t believe how beautiful they all were. Of her mom, dad, her brother Shawn.. and Glenn.   
Glenn’s death hit her hard. The last time she saw him- she can’t remember. He was in the ward with the sick people at the prison for so long.. her memories of him were fuzzy. But it still hurt her that he couldn’t be here with Maggie and their son.   
Their son that Maggie named after her dad. Beth’s dad.   
Hershel jr. was the sweetest baby. He was so good and calm, and so kind.   
When she held him, she cried, emotions washing over her all at once.   
When Beth kissed Daryl, she felt every pain and every worry inside of her melt away. His kiss made her feel at home- it made her feel safe and protected. She had been on her own for so long.   
-  
Beth woke up in pain. Her head was pounding and she felt the cool air from the breathing machine sending air inside her nose.   
“Beth. Can you hear me?”   
She could hear someone talking, we’re they talking to her?  
“She’s not reacting. You know what Dawn would do-“  
“Well Dawn’s dead. That asshole shot her point blank.”  
“Dawn shot her point blank..”  
“Well she’s alive. It must’ve been the angle of the gun. She’s lucky to be alive and breathing.”  
Beth faded back out, her ears ringing and her head throbbing.   
-  
The next time Beth awoke, she blinked. Her eyes had to adjust to the light- it stung. It was uncomfortable, her eyes had to readjust every few seconds to the light in the room, it hurt to keep them open for too long.   
There was an IV in her arm and her mouth felt dry. She swallowed, but it hurt, and she winced.   
“Beth, you’re awake.”  
She turned her head slightly, looking over at him. She couldn’t remember who he was.   
“What-“  
“Don’t try to talk just yet. You were shot in the head. Two months ago.”  
Beth frowned. Wasn’t she just at the funeral home with Daryl? She was unconscious for two months?  
She forced herself to find her words.   
“Where am I-“  
“You don’t remember? What’s the last thing you can remember?”  
“Funeral home. White trash brunch- walkers... and then waking up here.”  
The words were painful to say. Each word took a minute to get out- she was confused, lost, afraid, weak. Beth couldn’t remember anything.   
“This is Grady memorial. You were with us for a while. Then your people came for you, and you were shot. They left you in a truck. The one who shot Dawn carried you out. They put you in a trunk because a herd was coming. Lucky one of us was following them, and brought you back here. You were in and out for a while, but it’s taken you two months to open your eyes and speak.”  
Beth let out a quiet sob. Her family- they didn’t know she was alive. But she was- beaten, bruised, but alive.   
-  
It was another week before Beth could sit up. Another week after that before she could walk a few steps. And then another week before she walked out of her room and down the hallway and back.   
It was exhausting. She had to stop and take breaks, but she was getting somewhere.   
Her hair- they shaved the area of the gun shot, the entry hole and the exit hole. It was ugly- but she’d take being ugly over being dead any day.   
She sighed. None of her memories of Grady came back. The only thing she had to go on was the dr’s, Dr. Edwards. When she remembered that he said a man carried her out, Beth knew deep down that it was Daryl. She remembered him yelling at her to grab her shit and get out, and then she went to the road, and that’s it. She couldn’t remember anything after it. It made her want to go crazy, she wanted to remember.   
Dr. Edwards brought her the bag she had, and she dug through it trying to find something that could bring back her memories. She found the Washington, D.C. spoon that she picked up from the golf country club.   
She wanted to try to get to D.C., and see if anyone was there. But first things first she needed to get out of this damn hospital.   
It took another month for her to get healed. She was walking on her own, doing some work outs to build up her body and get her ready to leave. Beth needed to get out there and find her family, find Daryl. But she was lost. Where would they go? After the prison fell, they all get separated. That’s when she thought.   
She’d go back to the prison. Get her bearings. But she had one problem.   
Where was the prison?  
Beth asked around for a map, and she looked it over. There! On the map she found the hospital, and the prison. Well, it had to be the prison. It was close enough to Grady and she had to start somewhere.   
Beth asked for a car and a gun, and no one thought twice. Guess they wanted her gone too.   
Beth climbed into the car, and heard the engine roar to life.   
Now was the time. She took a deep breath and pressed down on the gas.   
-  
Beth drove the car up to the prison. It was nerve wracking, seeing it again after so long. The dead walkers littered the ground, and she saw the gate, the tank where she found Daryl afterwards. Beth didn’t even want to look for her father’s body- it was too painful.   
She drove through the grass, up to the gates, getting out and surveying her surroundings. There weren’t many walkers, but she had to always be careful and keep her wits about her as she held onto her gun. Beth asked where her knife was, but Dr. Edwards couldn’t tell her because he didn’t know. So all she had was a gun.   
Walking inside C block was hard to do. So many memories there, feeding Judith, playing games with Carl and the other kids, keeping them all happy. Eating lunch with Maggie and Glenn, talking about random things. Seeing Daryl become a bigger member of the group. Beth sighed, killing a few stray walkers before making it to her cell-room.   
It was as she left it, bed made ready for her to jump back in.   
She locked the door and dusted off the sheets, climbing in and closed her eyes, falling asleep.   
-  
She could hear them all laughing, talking, but it was in her memories. That damn “days without an accident” sign was still hung. She stood up and removed the 2 in front of the 0, so only the 0 remained. She swallowed before throwing the sign on the ground. The jackets she had found so long ago were still hung, though a bit dusty. So Beth brushed the dust off, taking the red jacket off it’s hanger and threw it overtop her clothes.   
So many memories rang through her head. Of Judith, of Rick, of her dad... of Daryl, when she hugged him because he was upset and it was the only thing she knew what to do to help him.   
She sighed and brushed some hair out of her face before turning and going back out to the car.   
Beth wasn’t sure what made her turn, but then she saw it.   
The motorcycle.   
Daryl’s. It was still here, left right where he had left it. She grinned to herself and approached it, careful not to attract any walkers.   
The motorcycle was in perfect condition even after not being used in so many years. It was like riding a bike, yeah? It would be faster than a car, but less protection than a car. Beth had to decide what to do.   
She could take the gas from the motorcycle for the car.. or vice versa. Biting her lip, Beth got off the bike, finding a can that she used to take whatever gas was left in the motorcycle and brought it back to the car.   
She thanked Daryl in her head, thanked him for keeping the motorcycle so in a way, he was still saving her.   
-  
Beth wasn’t sure how long it had been since she left the prison. She was following the map north, making her way towards D.C. It was the only thing she had to go on. Maybe they would be there?  
She drove until her eyes got tired and she had to stop. Beth sometimes forgot she survived a gun shot to the head, but other times the pain was so bad she couldn’t think straight. Her whole body ached on some days, when she would stop at a house and get herself warm during the cold months.   
It was a long drive to D.C., and Beth was getting tired. Would she ever find them again? Was it even possible? Her family could be anywhere, and she could just be chasing a daydream. They probably forgot about her, never talk about her or even remember her name.   
Some days it was hard on Beth. But she had to fight through it, she had to. Beth couldn’t give up, giving up wasn’t in her nature. So Beth continued on for months, searching for answers.   
-  
Beth found them. They were in D.C., on horse back. She saw Maggie and Rick, Michonne and Carol, and there he was, Daryl. Beth didn’t recognize anyone else that was with them. She hid from them, making sure she wasn’t seen. But she followed them after they left, she was on foot, the car had died months ago. She had followed Maggie back to this place that was surrounded by walls, but wasn’t sure she should go inside. It killed her, but she had to take her time. Would Maggie know her? Would she remember her sister? Beth swallowed.   
Then the guards had her at gun point, Beth was screaming at them, screaming Maggie’s name, before the guards could shoot her. She was so close. If they killed her now, everything she went through would’ve been for nothing.   
But then she heard Maggie’s scream, half a scream half a sobbing sound as she came towards Beth, her arms encircling her younger sister.   
-  
“and now I’m here.” Beth finished, looking up at Daryl with bloodshot eyes. Once she had started talking, she couldn’t stop. The words had flew from her lips so fast she couldn’t stop them. But Daryl never once broke in, never stopped her. He just listened, and she saw him smile when she mentioned his motorcycle. About halfway through her story her hand found his, and she watched his thumb gently rub over her knuckles. Daryl handed her a glass of water which she gladly took and swallowed.   
“Jesus Beth...” he finally said.   
Beth looked down and sighed, finishing the glass of water before putting it on the nightstand. “I still don’t remember anything of Grady. It’s like my brain is trying to protect my from the trauma.” She shrugged and bit her lip, looking up at Daryl who was still staring right at her.   
She leaned forward so that her head could rest on his chest. She was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.   
“Get some rest Beth.” Daryl said quietly.   
“Will you stay with me?” Beth whispered.   
“Always.”


End file.
